


Saltwater

by xxx_cat_xxx



Series: Sick Peter Parker [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Cruise Ships, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Irondad, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Motion Sickness, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Nausea, Parent Tony Stark, Seasickness, Sick Peter, Sick Peter Parker, Sickfic, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Vomiting, drunk bruce banner, spiderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 08:18:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15882174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxx_cat_xxx/pseuds/xxx_cat_xxx
Summary: Peter pushed past Tony and stumbled to the sink, where the few sips of water came back up together with horribly tasting bile.“Kid? Are you okay?” Peter could here panic creeping into his mentor´s voice.”Yeah,” he choked before gagging again. “Just….seasick?”----Tony takes the Avengers on a well-deserved holiday on one of his cruise boats, just for Peter to discover that he is prone to seasickness.





	Saltwater

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fill for a prompt I got on tumblr. Please leave comments if you like it! Follow me here: [xxx-cat-xxx.tumblr.com](https://xxx-cat-xxx.tumblr.com/)

“You´re telling me that this is a Stark Industries vessel and we can´t get back to the shore?” Bruce asked confusedly.

“Of course we can get back to the shore”, Tony replied, a hint of offendedness in his voice, “we could probably survive a trip through outer space in this baby. But if we go back now, it´s not gonna be a pleasant ride, ´s all I´m saying.”

“And you didn´t think of checking the weather forecast before taking us out into the middle of nowhere?” Clint sounded irritated.

“Thank you for your trust - yes, I did that, but please excuse that I didn´t know that _thunderstorms and rough winds_ would be upgraded to _hurricane_ within a few hours.”

“Then what´s the use of all your robots and AIs if they can´t even predict the weather?”

“Gosh, what´s your problem? Sorry for taking you on a free luxury cruise worth several thousands of dollars!”

“Kids, calm down.” Natasha interfered from where she was seated on the railing, completely undisturbed by the fact that the Atlantic was sloshing around just a few dozen feet below her. “You´re sounding like a bunch of five-year olds.”

“We stay here for the night, away from the disturbances, and get back first thing in the morning. I don´t see how that´s a problem.“ Tony stated.

He turned to Peter, who had been listening to the discussion silently, a bit unsure of whether he should be laughing or feeling intimidated. “Kid, you okay with that?”

There really wasn´t any need for asking. The smallest store room on Tony´s cruise ship was larger than Peter´s and May´s whole apartment, the equipment similar to that of a five-star hotel, plus labs and technical facilities anyone with a remote interest in IT could only dream of. Peter had boarded the ship hours ago and still had explored barely half of it yet. 

He mirrored Tony´s expectant smile. “Yes, Mr. Stark, I´d love to stay for the night!”

———-

A few hours later Peter was sure that this was the most stupid thing he had ever said. He was slumped over the toilet, his head nearly hanging into the bowl, retching for the hundredth time this night, while his stomach was trying to reject what had been expelled long ago. He´d always thought that motion sickness was still a better deal than the flu or a stomach bug, but tonight had proved him wrong. He was sure that he´d never felt this downright miserable. He was infinitely tired, yet unable to sleep, his body was shaking uncontrollably, and he just felt sick all over.

Peter managed to hoist himself upright on the sink and swallow a few sips of water, praying that they would stay down this time. He knew that he needed more than that, though, electrolytes preferably. He had skipped lunch at home, anticipating an extravagant meal during the cruise, but at dinner time the constant up and down caused by the faraway storm had already made him queasy enough for his appetite to vanish, and he´d barely finished his plate.

He felt terribly lightheaded when he made for the common kitchen, torn in between wishing someone would be there to take care of him - Tony being the obvious choice in May´s absence - and wanting it to be empty, just to be spared the embarrassment.

His hopes of avoiding publicity vanished into thin air when he entered the kitchen. Not only was it not empty, but literally everyone was there. Despite feeling terrible, he couldn´t help but grin at the scene that unfolded in front of his eyes.

Bruce was leaning against a wall, looking completely drunk, while Clint was framing his outline with dart arrows like a market artist. Natasha was sitting on a table, a row of empty glasses lined up in front of her, but still appearing completely sober and watching the scene with a raised eyebrow. Tony, in the meantime, was clapping at every dart Clint hit into the wall, cheering and apparently having the time of his life.

Peter hated the thought of interrupting, and he was about to turn on his heels and head back to his quarter, but the ship gave a sudden lurch and sent his head spinning, making him dizzy enough to grab the doorway for balance. Tony, who must have caught the movement from his eye, turned around and greeted him jovially.

“Spiderboy, what´s up?”, he shouted a few decibel louder than necessary, “thought you went to sleep early?”

“Uhmmm….” Peter didn´t know what to say, and it didn´t help that he had to use all his concentration for staying on his feet and swallowing back the saliva that was flooding his mouth again and again. 

Something must have given him away, because Tony´s attitude turned sober within a second, and he took a few quick steps towards Peter. “What´s going on, kiddo?”

“I´m -” he´d meant to say something, but another wave hit the boat and nausea overwhelmed him, sending his stomach contents up his throat. He pushed past Tony and stumbled to the sink, where the few sips of water came back up together with horribly tasting bile.

“Kid? Are you okay?” Peter could here panic creeping into his mentor´s voice.

”Yeah,” he choked before gagging again. “Just….seasick?”

Vomiting didn´t help. If anything, the nausea increased even further. He was so humiliated and shaky when he was done that he simply put his head down onto the edge of the kitchen counter, trying to block out the people around him. Someone was talking, but he couldn´t really care to listen. All he wanted was his aunt, his bed, and a solid, non-moving ground below his feet.

“Okay, okay.” Someone took him by the shoulders, led him towards the sofa. Peter opened his eyes a bit, recognizing Clint´s leather jacket. The change of position made him gag again, bile running out of the corner of his mouth and dripping onto his t-shirt.

“Alright, Peter. It´s alright.” The archer reassured, producing a tissue and wiping Peter´s face, although he seemed to pale a little bit himself. “How long has this been going on?”

“…a few hours, maybe?“ It wasn´t supposed to be a question, but Peter seemed to have lost track of time, he was honestly feeling like he had spent weeks, not just half a day on open sea.

“Well, that explains why you´re dehydrated. You know there´s medicine to prevent this kind of thing? You could have just said something.” Clint´s brow furrowed.

“I…I´ve never been on a boat, actually. Not on open sea, at least. And never in a storm.”

“No need to get defensive, kid.” Tony´s face appeared from somewhere.

“Doctor, a little help here?” he added, bending over Peter and taking his wrist to feel his pulse.

Bruce made a few steps towards them, swaying on his feet, and took in Peter´s appearance, his face contorting into a drunken grin.

“He´s green!” he laughed. “He´s green all over his face!”

“Yep, thanks for your valuable professional opinion.” Tony snorted.

“Well, that´s kind of your fault.” Natasha remarked. “You´re the one who started playing drinking games.”

“Yeah, go ahead, make everything my fault. Gravity, the earth going around the sun, what else is on me?”

“Shut up, Stark. You know what I mean.” She gave him a look.

“Fine, then make yourself useful and get the doctor to his room to sober up. And take Legolas with you, I don´t need two pukey kids to look after.”

He ignored Clint´s protest and turned back to Peter, who was sitting with his head between his hands, swallowing bitter saliva, trying to minimize his movements as not to go into another round of heaving. “Well. Wow. Guess you don´t like to hear that, but we need to get some fluids into you.”

He disappeared for a moment and returned with a bottle of Gatorade.

“Just a few sips, kid.”

Peter tried his best not to gag when he felt the liquid running down his throat. Everything was spinning around him, and he was glad for Tony´s supporting hand on his arm. He took another sip.

“That´s the spirit, boy.” Tony said, putting the bottle down. “Now, let´s try and get you comfortable.”

He brought a pillow and a blanket, and Peter lay down slowly, trying to ignore the constant up and down of the couch below him. Tony placed an empty trash can next to him on the ground.

“The storm should be over in a few hours, then I’ll drop you landlubber back to the shore.“ he smirked. Peter nodded weakly, not trusting himself to open his mouth without throwing up again.

Tony sat down across from him at the table, pulled out a tablet and started to work on something involving a dizzying amount of equations, but Peter could see his eyes glancing across to him every so often.

He curled into a ball, trying to jostle his stomach as less as possible.Time seemed to pass slowly. He could hear Nat return at some point of time, talking to Tony in a low voice, but Peter was too exhausted to listen. Everything turned into a humming noise in the background of his mind, and he finally drifted off to sleep.

———-

Peter woke up to the smell of slightly burnt toast. He opened his eyes. His head was pounding, and he was feeling slightly woozy, but his stomach had calmed down significantly. The smell of food, enough to make him sick just hours ago, was now reassuringly appealing.

He sat up slowly, taking in the scene around him. Clint was in the kitchen, apparently making breakfast and talking to Bruce, who stood at the counter, cradling a cup of tea and looking decidedly hungover. Nat was balancing on the low bookshelf in the corner of the room, a sly grin playing around her lips. Something made Peter feel like she had been sitting in the same position the whole night, watching them quietly like a cat on a window silk, but maybe this was just the impression she wanted him to have.

Tony was lying half across the table, draped over several tablets of various sizes, facing Peter, fast asleep. His usually elegantly styled hair was a complete mess, and the shadows and wrinkles around his eyes were more visible now that he was sleeping.

Peter tried to get up quietly, but he was still uncoordinated and ended up tripping over the trash can. Tony startled awake, eyes darting quickly across the room. “What….?” he asked, then his look fell on Peter, giving him a once-over, and he smiled a little.

“Ahh, Spider-Man is back from the sick and miserable. Nice to see you up and in a non-barfing state,” he teased, sitting upright and rubbing his eyes. “Friday, ETA?”

“One hour and 17 minutes, Sir.”

“Home, sweet home.” he said, stretching and then massaging his neck with a frown. “And back to work. Although, to be honest, I feel like I´ll need another cruise trip soon to recover from a holiday with the Avengers.”


End file.
